


Becoming Whole Again

by MabFaerie



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Blind Date, Comfort, Dinner, F/M, First Dates, Fluff, Fun, Funny, Kissing, One Shot, Restaurants, Romance, Wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 02:56:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3365117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MabFaerie/pseuds/MabFaerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the behest of Natasha and Steve, a nervous Bucky Barnes goes on a blind date for the first time in years. While anticipating an utter failure, what he finds instead will surprise him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Becoming Whole Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [persephone325](https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephone325/gifts).



“Are you sure this is a good idea?” A dark haired man with worried eyes adjusted and then readjusted the slim, black tie around his neck. Straightening it beyond straight for what had to have been the third or fourth time that hour; he just couldn’t seem to get it right.  
“I think it’s the _best_ idea.” A tall blond fellow sauntered into view, clapping a hand on his friends shoulder and grinning at the dark-haired man’s reflection in the mirror before them.

“Steve, while I appreciate you setting this up, I—“  
“It was mostly Natasha, to be honest, but you’re welcome anyway.” The blond man, Steve, interjected with a coy smile playing at his lips. He beamed at the other man akin to the way a father would beam at a child, proud and hopeful of their potential protege.  
  
“As I was saying, I’m beginning to suspect that perhaps this isn’t the best idea… I haven’t been on a date in years. By all accounts, I _don’t_ date.”  
“Bucky Barnes doesn’t date?” Steve grinned, raising his eyebrows in mock surprise,  
“The old Bucky was a heart-breaker! I remember the ways girls fell at your feet.” Steve jibed his friend in the ribs with a chuckle but then paused, realizing how his words might be misconstrued and quickly adjusting the context,  
“I mean, in love. Not… y’know.”  
  
Bucky shot a dark glance towards his friend. He didn’t need to think about that. Not tonight.  
  
“The point I’m trying to make here is that _my_ Bucky was a classy guy. Charming, Sophisticated, Funny, _Handsome_. Women liked you. Heck, I kind of think some of the _Men_ liked you.”  
“Steve…” Bucky trailed off, unsure of how to respond to his friend’s sheer overwhelming optimism.  
“This will be good for you, Buck. I know it will.”

Bucky shook his head side to side and offered no reply. A strand of his slicked back hair fell into his eyes from the erratic motion and he hastily swiped a hand across it, smoothing it back into place. He felt stiff and awkward. He didn’t recognize the man in the mirror with his button down shirt and his slim-fit vest; with his slicked back hair and his neatly pressed slacks.  
This wasn’t _him_. This was a man trying very hard to be someone else but fraying at the seams ‘til the truth slipped through.  
Like puzzle pieces that belonged in a box he’d long since put away; they just didn’t fit with the life he knew. _He_ just didn’t fit with the life he knew.

Still… how could he back out now? What with Steve standing there looking more excited than Bucky had felt all year.  
Bucky knew better than anyone else that Steve was always in his corner, cheering him on every step of the way. How could he deny him this one request?  
Besides, maybe Steve was right. Maybe this _would_ be good for him.

Jolting him out of his thoughts at last, Steve proclaimed, “The vest suits you.”  
“Oh-- uhm, yeah. Yeah, I like it too.” Bucky nodded, his gaze drawn to that damn black tie that had once more insisted on appearing crooked.  
As if they were of one mind, in unison, the two men frowned and said,  
“Lose the tie.”

* * *

An hour later, Bucky Barnes found himself face to face with an enchanting, raven-haired beauty, looking at least twice as nervous as he felt.  
Despite the long, layered hair that framed her face just so, distinctly Asian features still peeked through somehow. Bucky got the impression that if this girl could hide behind her own bangs, she would have; the blunt style almost obscured her grey eyes completely with how low it cut.

“You must be Miss Nakashima?” Bucky thrust his decidedly not-metal arm towards the timid looking girl and did his best to smile like he wasn’t panicking as silently as humanly possible.  
“I’m James. James Barnes. I trust Natasha told you about me? She might have referred to me as Bucky?” Well, so far, so good. She wasn’t screaming in horror _or_ cringing in disgust, at least for now.

“Yes and please, call me Persephone. Natasha spoke highly of you, rest assured.” Persephone smiled, hoping to be soothing, as it seemed the both of them were a bit tense.  
“I’m glad to hear that. I’m afraid you have me at a bit of disadvantage though, she hasn’t said much about you, Persephone.” He tested the name as they made idle chatter. The word was foreign on his lips but lovely nonetheless; He noted the way his mouth rose with a smirk at the end of it, perhaps unconsciously so.  
He liked this name. _Persephone._  
Perhaps there was potential to like the owner of it as well? Did he dare to hope that much? For someone like him?  
“Shall we head in?” Persephone, oblivious to the nervous spring coiling itself tighter and tighter inside Bucky’s chest, gestured to the entrance of the restaurant expectantly. The dark haired soldier nodded his consent, offering her his arm and escorting her inside.

The restaurant was calm and low-key, with soft classical music playing at a low volume, still perfectly audible over the quiet murmurings of dining guests. The lighting was just bright enough that patrons and wait-staff could see where they were going without falling over themselves, but dim enough to offer an additional atmospheric effect of sensuality.The tables were adored with a lone black candelabra in the center of each, two candles on either end with a lone candle in the middle, resulting in a warm, cozy glow.

To their surprise, there was no wait for seating. Natasha had been correct when she’d insisted this restaurant would be quiet on a weeknight. He’d have to remember to thank her for that, or perhaps curse her, if things went particularly badly from there on out.

Their hostess led the couple to an empty table where she offered them menus and asked if she could get them started on drinks. Water and a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon seemed to be verdict reached between them.  
As the waitress shuffled off to retrieve their beverages, Bucky offered a nervous smile and swept the room with his gaze, desperate for something to say and fearful of messing things up so soon.

As if noticing his hesitance, Persephone began to speak, filling the silence between them with words; she spoke of her job, her hobbies, her family, her pets. She was a single child who grew up in Connecticut before moving to New York when she was seven. Her mother was a seamstress and owned a dress shop in West New York while her father was a chef at a Japanese buffet chain.  
Fresh out of University, she moved to Japan where she taught English for three years before moving back to the states. She played classical piano professionally and had met Natasha at an after-event for a private recital. She owned a dwarf kitten in an apartment complex that didn’t allow dogs and this was her first date in over five years. Well, at least they had that in common.

Her voice was soft and calming; it steadied his nerves and held his attention as if she was the only person in the room. The more she spoke, the more Bucky felt himself in awe, completely drawn in to her life. Bucky could see it all: The pieces of her existence unfolding before him, forming a perfect image in his mind.  
The more she spoke, the more he understood. She led a simple but peaceful life and she seemed genuinely happy with it, if perhaps a bit lonely.

It was obvious, Persephone was interesting, she was kind, she was bright and she was clever. She was whole in a way he was not. Could someone as broken as him ever be a part of her life without upsetting that balance? Could he ever be whole like that too?

The wine and water arrived somewhere in the middle of Persephone’s monologue and Bucky took initiative of pouring them each a glass. He’d hardly noticed when their waitress returned for the _second time apparently_ , to take their order, her smile tight but her eyes conveying a slight annoyance.  
Apologizing profusely, Bucky selected the first thing he saw, embarrassed by not realizing how absolutely enraptured he’d been in their conversation.

Before he could inquire further into her life, Persephone caught him off guard by asking a question of her own,  
“So, are you going to tell me what happened to your arm or do I have to guess?” She smiled at him, tilting her head towards the glint of metal that shone beneath his cuff-sleeve.  
Before leaving earlier, he’d slid on some black leather gloves in the hopes that he’d be able to avoid addressing such topics right away, but it seemed he hadn’t been careful enough. That, or Persephone had a more discerning eye than he'd expected her to.

Scrambling for a reply, her grinned and chuckled softly, “Oh, this old thing? I won it in a raffle!”  
She laughed, shaking her head, and shooting him an incredulous look, “Come on!” She pressed, clearly not believing a word of it.  
“Alright, you got me. I fought the law and the law won.” He smirked, raising his gloved hands, palms stretched out in feigned innocence.  
When was the last time he’d been able to see someone laugh like that? When was the last time he’d been the source of it? Bucky wasn’t even sure he could remember anymore.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?” She leaned back in her seat, arms folded over her chest, smirking right along with him now.  
“Isn’t life more interesting with a bit of mystery, Miss Nakashima?” He asked, taking a sip of his wine and admiring the flavor for a moment too long before setting the glass down again.  
“Perhaps. Not to worry though, I’m patient. I’ll wait as long as it takes to unravel your mystery, _Mister Barnes_.”  
“Careful. I might hold you to that promise.” Bucky warned, the smile never leaving his lips.  
“Oh, I’d expect nothing less.” Persephone steadied her gaze on Bucky, as if trying to figure him out just by looking at him.

Before she could get very far, their food arrived, supplying a pleasant distraction for a little while and shifting the conversation towards that of wine and meats and of the careful common ground of favourite foods and beverages.

Eventually though, the well of conversation ran dry once more, and she inquired of his history, his employment, his family and his friends.  
Bucky wasn’t sure how to respond initially, choosing his words very carefully so to avoid entangling her in a web she might find difficult to remove herself from alone.  
His statements were vague, purposely nonspecific, referencing people and places but never times or dates.

He briefly spoke of his time as a Soldier with Steve without mentioning the time period, and of his friendship with Natasha without mentioning the _bullet-wounds._  
He didn’t want to risk giving himself away or of letting someone like Persephone end up involved in his affairs.  
This was just supposed to be a fun time between two normal people. He was _‘old Bucky’_ tonight. Charming, witty, sophisticated Bucky.  
He wasn’t a killer.  
He wasn’t a monster.  
Not tonight.

As if noticing his apprehension, Persephone took the lead once more, politely drawing the conversation away from him and casually switching to lighter subjects.  
She must have assumed he had bad memories about his time spent as a Soldier, what with the current state of world affairs, but she _really_ didn’t know the half of it. He let her make that safe assumption though, grateful that the heat was off of him, even if it was just momentarily.

* * *

As the night wore on, they found themselves at the bottom of the wine bottle, their plates long since cleared away and much more laughter flowing between them than Bucky had expected. Bucky almost didn’t want to believe it, but he genuinely felt comfortable around Persephone. She seemed to pick up easily on the little cues that he’d struggled with, making the conversation feel less and less like a chore.

The more they spoke, the more he felt as if he didn’t need to hide from her. Not because he wanted to tell her his story, but because she never pried too deep or pressed too hard for information. Her curiosity was there, just below the surface, but she knew enough not to push when Bucky appeared too reluctant. Perhaps she was just being polite or careful, but Bucky certainly appreciated that aspect of her.

Before either of them realized it, three hours had passed by. Bucky almost didn’t believe the time until he confirmed it for himself. Three hours at a restaurant? Just chatting away?! The wait-staff were probably griping about them in the back room!  
Shaking his head apologetically, Bucky took care of the tab, leaving an excessive tip before escorting Persephone out into the quiet night.

Despite the faint chill in the air, the two continued talking once outside. Walking without purpose, they circled the block at least a half dozen times just to enjoy each others company a little longer.  
Eventually, they found themselves outside the restaurant once more, their cars in the parking lot across the street, waiting for the return of their respective owners.

Bucky inhaled reluctantly, knowing the night would have to come to an end. It was already quite late, after all, with stars flooding every inch of the sky they could see.  
Much as he might like to, Bucky knew it wouldn’t be polite to keep a lady out until dawn; Even if, deep down, he probably wouldn’t mind watching the sunrise with someone other than his lonely self for a change.

Crossing the street carefully, with Persephone by his side, they made their way back to her car, stopping just short of her driver-side door. There was a hint of hesitance on both ends, a lingering feeling of regret that the couldn't stay longer, overshadowed by the otherwise pleasant mood of the evening.  
  
“I had a wonderful time tonight. I’d like it if we could do this again.” Persephone spoke first, saying the words he’d hoped to hear but didn’t dare wish for.  
“I did as well. Thank you for spending time with me. I would be positively honored to see you again.” Bucky replied, trying to keep his cool even though his heart raced at the possibility of spending more time with the gorgeous figure before him.

“Well then, you’ll just have to call me, now won’t you?” Persephone grinned, slipping a small bit of paper into his palm, on which she’d likely written her number. Instead of pulling away however, she kept her hand against his, enjoying the contact.  
“I imagine so.” Bucky exhaled, his gaze drawn from her eyes down towards her lips. Could he…? What if she pushed him away? What if he was misreading her intent? What if-- In a heartbeat, his mouth met hers, stealing her lips in a kiss so fierce it left both of them breathless.  
One hand rested against her cheek, his thumb carefully tilting her face up towards his while his finger gently entangled themselves in her hair.  
The kiss broke off all too soon and as he breathed in her scent for one single heady moment, he found her lips returning to his, the kiss shared between them born of her own desires this time. A slim hand rested against his chest, the other tugging the collar of his shirt, pulling him even closer.  
When the kiss finally ended, they both stepped away breathlessly pleased, chuckling with the sheer euphoria of the moment.

“I’ll call.” He promised, as she unlocked her car door, lingering just long enough to offer him a smirk.  
“You better!” She warned him, laughing softly as she got into her car, her skin flushed the loveliest shade of pink that Bucky had ever seen.  
He watched her pull out of the lot and onto the road as he made his way towards his own car, grinning like a man possessed, gripping the slip of parchment as if he'd just won the lottery and it was his ticket.

His ride home was long, but not as lonely as he'd thought it would be. The evening had certainly given him quite a bit to think about. It had not gone as he’d thought it would, and that really wasn’t a bad thing, quite far from it.  
He’d gone into the arrangement nervous and hesitant; A scattered disarray of fragmented feelings.  
In one night, he felt everything he knew shift.  
Not by much. Nothing ground-shattering by any means.  
But by enough.  
Just enough to notice.  
Just enough to _feel different_.

Persephone was wonderful and inspiring and lovely. Something inside him felt moved in a way he hadn’t anticipated before; in a way he didn’t even think he _could_ be moved anymore. Everything about that night amounted to a quiet but profound whisper of proof that his past did not make him who he was today.  
That he was a man long before he was a soldier and he would be a man long after his war was done.

Returning home for the night, Bucky found Steve waiting up, a grin on his face, eager to hear how it went.  
Bucky recapped the evening, nearly word for word; unable to resist his own smile from playing at his lips while taking note of how pleased Steve seemed as well.

The experience had been beautiful and whole in a way that he had not fathomed possible before.

All things considered, Bucky wondered if perhaps he too was just a little more whole for having had it.


End file.
